Two Sides to the Same Coin
by Punzie the Platypus
Summary: Two members from Candor go in completely different directions: One transfers to Amity, and the other transfers to Dauntless—Peter and Johanna exchange a civil conversation in the Amity compound after Tris's fight with Peter.


_**Soli Deo gloria**_

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Divergent. Here is just an interesting look at two of the more minor main characters and an interaction between them.  
**

"Get your hands off of me!" Peter says, his voice harsh.

The Amity man whose hold is on his arm shakes his head. "Johanna has asked me to bring you to her office."

"What, you're not sitting me in timeout like the Stiff over there? What? Is Johanna going to give me a talking-to, make me think about my words and how they hurt other people? No chance, softie," Peter says. He takes action as he shoves the opposing hand off his arm and shoves another Amity with his shoulder against the hall. The man groans and slides against the wall and Peter can't help the smirk on his face as he runs down the hallway.

The opposite way he _shouldn't have _run, though. Suddenly he stops, abrupt, his breath caught. Johanna Reyes stands in front of her office, her arms folded. Her hair is pulled back in a long ponytail, but a thick lock covers her damaged skin. Despite her being from the kind, peace-loving faction, Peter doesn't move; he feels _fear _because the stern lines in her face make him _scared_.

"Hello, Peter," she says. Her eyes peer down the hall. Then they turn back to him. Not accusatory, but oh, it's like she can see into his soul. He leaves a trail of blood and wounded flesh behind him. "Come in." She steps back, sweeps a hand in front of her.

Peter feels like he has no choice but to step in the doorway. Her office is exactly what he'd think the office of a representative of Amity would be. Flowers hang out of pots, the air reeks of black earth and new blossoms. Her desk is rough and the two chairs opposite each other are _rocking chairs_.

"Sit down, Peter. Please." Her smile makes her face stretch in a weird way.

He finds himself obeying, crossing his legs and clasping his hands on them. Past Johanna is an open window. He can see the tall trees characteristic of the Amity. Then he hears Johanna clearing her throat and his eyes look up.

"How is your arm?" Johanna says. "Tris didn't damage it further, did she?" She takes the open rocking chair.

"It's fine. The Stiff's a child. She can't do damage," Peter says.

Johanna quirks an eyebrow. "I see," she says.

Her answer seems vague, and Peter says, "What do you see?"

"Why you transferred to Dauntless. They value, now, those who crave victory and reward," she says. "And—if you don't mind my forwardness, Peter, for I wish to not offend you—your tongue lies too easily."

"You speak truth, for an Amity member," Peter says too quickly, eager to point out her flaws.

Johanna's fingers lace together, and she doesn't get agitated. _She _won't cause conflict by giving in to his bait. "And Four? I was told he pressed his shoe against your ribs."

Peter's lips curl into a strange smile. "Are you actually aiming for answers here, Johanna, or just inquiring about my health like the good Amity you are?"

"I am concerned for the welfare of all the inhabitants of my faction," Johanna says. "I don't want conflict in my compound, and I don't like the consequences of violence. I am showing concern."

Peter smirks, his tongue playing against the inside of his cheek. "Believe me, those two couldn't go through with serious damage. Not against me. We're in the same faction."

Johanna's eyes slide over his bandaged arm. "I have learned that underestimating people is a way to find peace. You see their potential, what they could become, and you know that keeping water poured over the fire is the only way to keep the flames from jumping too high. Those two are not to be underestimated, Peter. Unless they lied, their testimony about what they did at the Dauntless compound shows attributes of their chosen faction." Johanna's other eyebrow quirks. "Did they earn the title of Dauntless last night, Peter?"

She caught him. Peter isn't a Dauntless that is willing to admit to strength in others, strength he himself doesn't possess. He instead evades. "Awfully curious for an Amity who wants to 'keep the peace.'" His fingers make air quotes and he falls back in his chair, feeling like he holds up the upper hand.

Johanna's eyes are calm, but they hide a stoked fire that hadn't diminished when she left Candor. "Then, if they speak the truth, that would mean you sided with the Erudite?"

"I thought you weren't supposed to pick sides here. Erudite and Amity; the two 'essential' factions. You're best friends; are you betraying your friendship?" Peter says.

Johanna's lips soften into a pitying smile. "You most certainly are a Dauntless." A Candor wouldn't manipulate another's words like this; the Candor crave, seek the truth above all things. And he doesn't want the truth to take air. He is cunning, like the Erudite. No wonder they chose him to stay awake during the simulation.

Every year, ever since she defected to her current faction, Johanna watched closely all the initiates at the Choosing Ceremony who were either from Amity, her own faction, her thoughts wondering if they would remain under her care, and also those from her old, birth faction. She couldn't help it. She wanted to know if any of them, too, would come to Amity, like she had. She'd watched Peter drip blood onto the sizzling coals and realized just how different two people from the same faction could be; both originated from the same faction, and yet they took completely opposite directions.

"Is that all, Reyes? 'Cause I'm due for my _job_ lifting bags around the warehouses," Peter says.

"Why are you evading _my _questions, Peter? Aren't you challenged?" Johanna's voice is so innocent. "Aren't you Dauntless?"

Peter is halfway out of his chair; he turns back, a fierce glare of pride in his eyes. He says, "What is your question, Reyes?"

"Did you conduct yourself in a manner against the Abnegation members, aiding indirectly in their elimination?" Johanna asks, her voice firm but soothing, like a mother coaxing a hard answer out of her son.

"I did what I had to to survive," Peter says defensively. His eyes flick away from Johanna past the open window to a dark-haired figure carrying a blonde girl the size of a child in his arms, her limbs wrapped around his neck. His smirk returns as he puts names on the familiar figures. "Looks like you've got visitors. Can I go now?"

Johanna looks out the window and see the grim frown of Marcus on his son's face. She turns back, hardly ruffled, though she is disturbed by Tris in his arms, and she says, "I have only one more thing to say to you, Peter. Conflict will only bring dissension into this peaceful, neutral land. If you are to remain here, please refrain from violence." Her eyes are colder as she says gently, "It will _not _be tolerated."

Usually she isn't so blunt and cold when she talks to anyone, but she knows that Peter is from Candor. She know he can decipher the truth from her, so why lie to him at all?

Peter says, "Of course," and he smiles a soft smile and pushes himself up off the rocking chair with his good hand.

Johanna's eyes follow his back and linger on his bandaged arm until he turns the corner and disappears from her sight.

**Thanks for reading! **


End file.
